His Pilgrim Soul
by maliciouspixie5
Summary: To all those who have loved and lost, and loved again, on Earth or … in the Twilight Zone. Sherlock & John have been together three years, but Sherlock can't stop himself from holding back. John, at the end of his rope wants a commitment and all that goes with it or Sherlock needs to let him go. J/S S/M(past life)


HPS 1

 **His Pilgrim Soul Day 1**

To all those who have loved and lost, and loved again, on Earth or … in the Twilight Zone. Sherlock and John have been together three years, by now there should be a solid commitment but Sherlock can't stop himself from holding back. John, at the end of his rope wants a commitment and all that goes with it or Sherlock needs to let him go. One haunting weekend will force Sherlock to face a past life that isn't his own, to let go of a past love so he can embrace the future with the love he has now.

AN: For Dixiebell, it's finally here and it's all yours LOL. Hope I do it justice. Love ya sis!

/\\\\\/\\\\\

On Friday a human fetus showed up in his experiment out of the blue. Sherlock Holmes had two years invested in his research on Stasis Field technology and did not appreciate this aggravation what so ever. His research one day, when it progressed to humans, would be a stepping stone to get them to other worlds. Any delay would not be tolerated. He threw one of his famous strops that had his research associate Mike Stamford ready to physically hit him and had their research assistants running for cover.

"I don't know what happened!" Sherlock said while throwing a clipboard toward the stasis chamber. "It," he said pointing at the child, "just all of a sudden appeared floating midair." By now he is gesturing wildly with his long arms, throwing them up in aggravation and pacing around the room in long legged strides.

The stasis chamber was a floor to ceiling cylindrical tube around five feet across with a dais covering the mechanical works on the bottom about two feet from the ground. The top most portions were attached to the ceiling and were a jumble of wires and tubes and cooling coils. When it was on it glowed an eerie purple and hummed mechanically. On the floor of the chamber lay a dish of rotted strawberries. They had started their work with strawberries because the fruit started visibly rotting after only three days. At present they could make the berries last for almost a week before decomposition set in. It would be many years, probably even a century before they could try this on a living specimen but it was the start of the future.

"Well daddy, it seems to be a girl. It's pretty far along too, I think I would place it at about eight maybe nine months." Mike said standing in front of the chamber studying the little body floating there. The fetus was fully formed, a perfect replica of a living child in utero. It even had the umbilical cord attached but it ended a few inches from the body. "It looks like it is ready for a slap on the rump and a diaper."

Sherlock ignored him and continued his rant. "Six damn days this time, I had them last six days past the last time before they started to rot and now this," he says and grabs handfuls of his hair and pulls in aggravation.

Over at his display Mike is going over sheets of computer printouts, "I've ran the debugging routines twice now, nothing shows up," he shakes his head, "A hacker maybe?"

"Just great, just great. Junior gets himself a new Mac and decides instead of plundering MI6 files to find the real 007 or rob the treasury he will contaminate my research!" He picks up a squash ball from his desk and starts bouncing it as he paces. Bam catch, bam catch, bam catch. Mike looks over at him annoyed at the noise but knows not to disturb him when he is that deep into his thought process. "We are going to have to clear the memory and do a cold start." He says coming to a halt before the chamber.

"Sherlock, you're kidding that will take all day and half a night to get it up again." He pitches the paperwork on his desk frustrated at the lack of answers and turns toward his partner.

"You have a better suggestion? As I see it we have no choice, it's the only thing left."

"But, it's your anniversary tonight. John has planned something special. Sherlock don't do this to him." But Mike knows Sherlock well and when it comes to his research every-one and everything takes a back seat. "At least call him and tell him what's going on."

"Yeah, I'll do that in an hour when I get a break." He says distractedly, organizing in his head the steps they will take to shut off the system and bring it back up, he places the ball back on his desk after one more bounce and continues with venom lacing his words, " I hope IT can track the little bastard who got into our system. I want his address, I will tear his computer from his greasy little hands and stomp it to dust as he weeps, little bastard."

Mike is back to standing in front of the chamber. It's like he can't keep away, it's so fascinating. "It's weird, it almost seems alive." Mike muses looking at the fetus before he turns back to his pad and starts the protocol for shutting down the system. When he is not looking the fetus twitches in the stasis field as the lights slowly start to fade and as it disappears the only thing that is left is the rotted strawberries in their bowl on the floor.

/\\\\\/\\\\\

"Finally," Mike says as the stasis field hums back to life and its purple glow gives color to the room. "It only took eight bloody hours but who was counting any way. You're lucky John is so understanding, my wife…she's mad as hell." He looks up and see's Sherlock's expression. He looks guilty. "You bastard, you forgot to call didn't you." He rolls his eyes knowing the answer before Sherlock even voices it.

"John will understand he always does." He says as he gathers his coat. He doesn't look bothered at all that he didn't call his spouse of three years to tell him he would be late for their anniversary dinner.

"Yeah, good luck with that one." And Mike storms out angry for John. He mumbles to himself as he walks down the corridor, "One of these days that self-centered bastard known as Sherlock Holmes is going to learn a very hard lesson. Poor John"

Sherlock locks the door and as the tumbler clicks inside the lab a baby reappears in the stasis field. It looks several months old now and is clothed only in a cloth diaper. It's pitiful cries echo on the walls.

/\\\\\/\\\\\

At the sound of the apartment door unlocking John comes awake. Looking at the glowing clock on the table beside the bed he sees it is going on twelve. He listens from their bed as Sherlock walks inside and relocks the door. He hears Sherlock remove his coat and its landing in John's chair. For some reason Sherlock never hangs the damn thing up and it never lands anywhere else but **his** chair, for **him** to hang up before **he** can sit down. In **his** own chair. But that is only just one of the many, many issues he has with Sherlock.

He hears as the steps hesitate on the way to their room. Sherlock must see the dinner he had set for them still on the table. John had planned for a week for the anniversary dinner. He had carefully set two place settings with nice china and sparkling stemware. He had purchased a very expensive (for him) bottle of wine. He had gone over many different menu ideas and finally settled on individual beef wellingtons, asparagus wrapped in bacon, roasted potatoes, and for desert a decadent chocolate cake.

He had set the table with such care. Lit two tall candles and set them on either side of the table to give the table just an extra touch of romance. The candles have probably gutted out by now since they had been burning since seven o'clock. After an hour waiting John had texted Sherlock to remind him that they had plans for the night. Sherlock must have left his phone on the desk again because he had never replied to the text. So after another hour John had eaten his portion and just left the rest on the table. He was disgusted and disheartened.

Sherlock creeps into their room, trying to make as little noise as he can. He hopes that John is asleep so the argument can be postponed till the morning but sees in the faint light the stiffness of Johns shoulders and knows that the discussion he has dreaded all the way home will happen. John feels the bed dip as Sherlock sits, he doesn't acknowledge him just continues to face the wall and stare. Sherlock breaks the silence. "I'm so sorry John someone hacked into our system and tampered with the research."

"Two seconds Sherlock, it would have taken you two seconds to at least text me." He sits up and turns toward the man with whom he exchanged marriage vows only three years ago and wonders if all he is is something convenient to make sure that the lazy sod gets fed and has clean clothes. He is a doctor, not a housewife, but all the 'wifely' chores seem to fall on his back.

"I know, but I've put two years into this..."

John stops him with "And **WE** have three years invested in **US**!" He is angry, so very angry now. "We were supposed to have a night for us, sans the surgery and the lab. Just us!" He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. His heart feels like it has a leak, one that Sherlock's sorry just can't fix this time. "Three years ago we said that on our third year we would start looking for a surrogate. We would start our family. You were hesitant about it but said by now you would be ready."

"A child! Just come to my lab I had one floating about today like a baby balloon. John, I'm just not ready to take that step let's wait a little longer." He is trying his best to sound reasonable but really it's all just pretense. He doesn't want a child.

"I'm so ready for this Sherlock. I want to be a father, I need it. Please, I will give the sample you won't have to participate in all that. But maybe one day you…"

"What contribute my own specimen for a number two? No, I'm not ready for a number one and I know I said I would consider it but I can't. John, all lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, you knew I was this way when we started this together. I've got some work to do, I'll be in the lounge, just go back to sleep." He storms out of their bedroom slamming the door on the way out. And all John can do is curl up and cry quietly.

AN: This is based on an old Twilight Zone which aired December of 1985. "Her Pilgrim Soul" I watched this as a teen and instantly fell in love. The story was written by author Alan Brennert and later put into book form. This story has haunted me since the first time I saw it and I would love to get a copy of the short story. All I have is a copy of this in VHS which is currently dry rotting in my mother's attic. You can watch it on You Tube; it's in four parts and worth it. I'll give you the link for #1 of 4. watch?v=R3BKBgGG4I4

Also I have my Pinterest inspiration page if you would like to visit it to see some of the clothes and characters of the times maliciouspixie5/his-pilgrim-soul/


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